


Cursed

by greenforsnow



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anxiety, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort Bingo Round 10, M/M, Mind Control Aftermath & Recovery, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Relationship, Pre-Slash, This just takes place in that wonderful pre infinity war pre endgame place
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-18
Updated: 2019-06-18
Packaged: 2020-05-14 06:04:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19267303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greenforsnow/pseuds/greenforsnow
Summary: “What if I’m a curse? What if I’m your curse?”Steve comforts Bucky's fears post-Winter Soldier





	Cursed

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the "cursed" square of my Hurt/Comfort bingo card

Steve woke up to the sound of the window being opened in Bucky’s room. He sat up with a start, his heart already beating fast. He slipped out his door and down the hall. Bucky’s door was cracked open and when Steve peered in he saw Bucky’s bed was empty and the light blue curtain was blowing in the summer wind. Steve walked gently to the window and looked out to the fire escape. Bucky was crouched with his back to the wall his metal hand gripping the metal rod in front of him so tightly it was bent around the silver of his fingers. 

“Buck?” Steve asked, his voice was still raspy from sleep, “You okay?”

Bucky didn’t respond. Not a good sign. His eyes looked wide and panicked, darting around taking in each object in the dark. Steve crawled out the window himself and sat down cross legged next to him. He reached out and slowly moved one hand towards Bucky’s heaving chest. “This okay?” He asked.

Bucky nodded slightly and Steve pressed a hand against the heat of Bucky’s chest. His undershirt was wet from sweat. Bucky slid forward and allowed Steve to settle behind him. Steve kept one hand on his friend’s chest, being able to feel Bucky’s heart beating strong under his fingers, was as much for Steve’s benefit than it was for Bucky’s. It still felt unbelievable. That his friend was here, solidly in front of him, living and breathing. Sometimes a reminder helped him. Sometimes moments like these were the only thing that made him feel tied to the ground. 

Bucky slowly leaned back into Steve who tried to mirror slow and deep breaths, despite his own anxiety starting to crawl in under his skin. His breaths started slowing down, he released the bar of the fire escape with a creak. Steve tried to keep his hand steady on Bucky’s chest while not overwhelming him with too many points of contact. 

“Nightmare?” Steve asked.

“Kind of,” Bucky said. Steve felt the deep breath he took before speaking, “Your mom used to read us fairy tales. That dark shit that you always kind of wonder how anyone ever thought it was for kids.”

“Yeah, that’s right,” Steve said gently. He felt the hitch in Bucky’s breath against his chest as his words ghosted hot breath against his neck. 

“There was that one about the girl who insulted the witch as she was walking home one night,” Bucky said.

“I think half of them started that way. It’s why I was always so polite to older women when I was a kid. Just scared one of them was going to secretly be a witch,” Steve said. A breeze blew Bucky’s hair against his face and tickled his nose. He could smell his own shampoo, which Bucky had taken to using despite the fact that he had his own, and another scent that was familiar and earthy and something that he could only identify as home. 

“This is the one where she decided it wasn’t enough to just curse the girl, right?” Bucky said. His voice was light and conversational, but none of the tension had left his body, so Steve knew this wasn’t just one of those conversations where Bucky pieced together memories of before. 

“I think I remember this one,” Steve said. He allowed his fingers to rub across the other man’s chest. Like Bucky used to do when he was sick and couldn’t breathe. Tracing slow circles, brushing over the scar tissue by his left arm. Bucky sunk an inch back into Steve’s arms. 

“She turned the girl into a curse. All she did was bring pain to those around her. Her father’s crops withered and died right before the harvest. Her mother died in childbirth. Her brother was attacked by wolves. Eventually she ran away and lived in a cave by a stream, but eventually the water became poisoned and it flowed back to her village and killed everyone there,” Bucky was talking fast now and his breathing was coming faster. Steve tried to take big breaths, but his own chest shook. 

Bucky clenched his metal hand. The sound of metal plates moving seemed loud in the night air. 

“Steve?” Bucky’s shoulders were shaking now. Both his fists were clenched. And against Steve’s thighs he could feel the muscles in Bucky’s legs tighten. Steve fought the urge to grab the other man tightly, worried he was about to run away. 

“What if I’m a curse? What if I’m your curse?”

“Hey, hey, no. No.” Steve gently turned Bucky towards him so he could look him in the eyes. His hair, damp from sweat and the humid summer air, was sticking up around his face. Lit by the moon, it almost looked like a halo. “No,” Steve said firmly. He brushed some wayward hairs from Bucky’s eyes. Letting his thumb linger against the side of his face. 

“Steve, you became an international criminal since I came back, you lost friends, you lost your job… hydra came back. You’ve almost died. Lots of people did die. Steve, I’m a curse. You don’t deserve this. I need to go. I need to go to a cave far away that doesn’t have any stream connected to you, but I can’t Steve. I can’t and I’m bad and selfish because right here is the only place anything makes sense and now I am going to ruin you and I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Steve, I’m sorry.”

Steve bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself from crying. He tasted blood. Bucky had turned back away from him and was twisting a metal slat from the fire escape around his flesh finger using the metal hand. His breathing was shallow and fast and his whole body was shaking.

“Hey,” Steve said. His voice was rough and almost cracked. He picked up both Bucky’s hands in his own. His let their fingers intertwine and brought them up to Bucky’s chest so he was hugging him, careful not to squeeze tight enough that it would feel like he was restricting him. “Buck, no,” he said against the other man’s neck. “I made those choices, okay? And I’d do it again tomorrow. You run away to a cave and I would sure as hell follow you. You aren’t a curse. You’re a goddamn blessing, okay?” Steve shut his eyes and inhaled Bucky’s smell. He wasn’t sure how to say to Bucky that nothing felt right until he came back. How he had felt untethered and lost and hurt all the time until he had Bucky back by his side without it sounding like… too much. 

“Steve, I’m... bad. I did bad things. They keep coming back and it’s—” 

“That wasn’t you,” Steve said. This was an argument they kept having. It felt rehearsed at this point and Steve recognized that his strategy wasn’t working. Steve wondered if it was just easier for Bucky to punish himself than it was to see himself a victim. 

“I’m not who I was before,” Bucky said. His breathing had slowed slightly, maybe just comforted by the familiarity of this conversation. 

“I know. That’s okay. You’ve seen me through a lot of changes too,” Steve rubbed his thumbs in a slow zigzag against both of Bucky’s palms. The other man usually didn’t let him touch the metal arm; it felt cold in contrast to the air. 

“Growing a bunch of muscles isn’t exactly the same as mass murder,” Bucky said through gritted teeth. 

“Look, I know you don’t trust yourself right now, but trust me, okay? Can you do that?”

Bucky nodded. 

“Getting you back? That’s the best thing that’s happened to me since… I don’t even know when. Sometimes I am blown away ‘cause I don’t think I deserve something this good. Something as good as hearing you give me shit or reading about the moon landing with you,” he took a breath, “Or being able to touch you…” He ran his hands up Bucky’s arms. “So there’s no way you could be my curse. You are… overwhelmingly good, Buck. And if anyone tries to take that away from me— including you— I am going to cause some serious havoc.”

Bucky was still now. His breathing had slowed. 

“You understand?” 

Bucky grabbed Steve’s hands in his own again. Steve touched Bucky all the time now, once Bucky told him it was okay, he hadn’t been able to stop, but it was rare that Bucky initiated contact. Steve smiled at the contact.

With the immediate threat of Bucky’s anxiety dispelling, Steve was hit with an awareness of how intimate their position was. He swallowed. 

“Besides, we’ve established that I’ve never angered anyone who could be a witch. In fact, I always went out of my way to be helpful to potential witches. So I think I’ve earned curse immunity,” he said. It was half to lighten the mood. Half to stop himself from leaning forward and kissing Bucky’s neck. That was the last thing he needed right now. 

“You dug up all of the flowers in Mrs. Abney’s window box and replaced them with used toilet pipes,” Bucky said.

Steve laughed. “Alright, so she may have cursed me, but she had been harassing her Jewish neighbors, so at least I have the moral high-ground on that one.” 

“Always have the moral high-ground, you,” Bucky said.

“Well, clearly.”

They stayed there for a minute. Taking deep breaths in unison. 

“You ready to go back to bed? Feeling okay?” Steve asked.

“Yeah… thanks.” Bucky stood and walked towards his window. He paused. “Will you stay with me tonight?”

“Of course,” Steve smiled. “Can’t have you running off on me just ‘cause my mom didn’t know what appropriate books for kids were.” 

Bucky laughed and Steve felt his own tension lift at the sight of the other man’s smile. They were going to be okay.


End file.
